


The Stupid is Strong With This One (Tales from the Graveyard Shift)

by chibi_nightowl



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Capes, Gen, Language, Workplace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-09-19 16:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9450425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi_nightowl/pseuds/chibi_nightowl
Summary: This is what happens on the night shift. It rolls along smoothly until it doesn't. And when it doesn't, it crashes and burns in spectacular fashion.





	1. The Stupid is Strong With This One

**Author's Note:**

> I should not be allowed to write fanfiction at night when I'm supposed to be working. Busy nights are good, gets the adrenaline pumping, keeps me sharp. Slow nights are bad and the extra caffeine needed to stay awake...well, then stuff like this happens. This is crack, pure and simple.

 

Tim throws his headset at his computer screen in utter disgust. "Why? Why is this even my life? What the hell did I do to deserve this?"

From across the small wall dividing his cube from the next, Jason starts cackling. Harder. He'd started laughing about 20 minutes ago when it quickly became apparent what kind of idiot Tim was dealing with.

That's okay though. Tim's done it to him enough times so fair's fair.

Bruce, the night shift manager, steps up to Tim's desk. "Need a breather?"

"Yes. No. Goddammit, I just need an intelligent conversation right now. Is that too much to ask for?" Tim runs his hands through his hair in frustration.

"At this time of night, yes." Stephanie chimes in from behind him. They share a cube. "It's 2am and we're on the East coast. All the smart people are sleeping."

"Or getting drunk on the other side of the country." Jason speaks up. "Just got off a call with someone in San Francisco. If he wasn't three sheets to the wind, then I'm Mickey Mouse." He leans back and puts his feet up on his desk.

"Jason, feet on the floor," Bruce orders but he knows it's a waste of breath as the other man just gives him a _look_.

From across the aisle, Dick starts juggling the stress balls they all routinely throw at each other. They usually end up with Dick for some reason. "Wasting your time complaining, Timmy. It's just one of those nights."

"I _know_ ," Tim says as he glares at Dick. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

Dick gives him a bright grin in return as he knows it’ll peeve Tim off even more. He’s may be the cheerful one on the team, but he’s not above dishing it out when the situation calls for it.

"I wonder if there's a solar flare or something?" Steph asks thoughtfully. "It's not a full moon. I checked."

"Shame because that would explain a lot." Tim rubs at his eyes. He needs caffeine. _More_ caffeine, really, but Steph won’t let him drink any after 1am so that he can _sleep_ when they get off work in a few hours.

"Lets face it, our customers are just dumb tonight," Jason says.

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose at the conversation going on around him. He's supposed to keep moral up when this kind of thing happens and try to keep the negativity down to a minimum, but with this group, it's hard as they're all _smart_ and just jaded enough to not buy into the corporate spiel like the young new hires on the day teams do. He dreads the annual engagement survey. _Dreads it_.

His team is a specialized internal support group that handles escalations from front line employees who are customer facing. If they feel the situation warrants it, they'll take over the call or join the written chat that the other employee can't handle. In most cases, Bruce thinks they'll take over just to find something to bitch and moan over.

These guys are the best of the best this company has to offer and it never ceases to amaze him that people this talented _choose_ to work this shift. The shift differential probably has something to do with it. They all make comments about not having enough money and yet he knows none of them are big spenders.

This is what happens on the night shift though. It rolls along smoothly until it doesn't. And when it doesn't, it crashes and burns in spectacular fashion.

An hour passes uneventfully.

"Shit, I think the website's down." Jason glares across the wall at Tim like it's _his_ fault.

"When isn't it at this time of night?" Tim arches an eyebrow at Jason. Just because he's the resident programmer on the team with all the necessary clearances doesn't mean he's at everyone's beck and call.

"It's the important part, dumbass. The part where everyone logs in at. Fix it, Timmy. That's your _job_."

Tim checks a few things quickly. "There's nothing to fix! Did they try another browser? Or clear their browsing history?"

"I work here too, asshole, I know how to do basic troubleshooting!"

"Jason. Tim," Bruce calls from over his cube wall, "Knock it off. Jason, did you find out what browser they're using?"

Jason swears under his breath and unmutes his phone to ask a few more questions.

Bruce grimaces and thinks again about the damn engagement survey coming up. Barbara, his director, is not going to be happy with the survey results from this team. Again. About the one thing they consistently score higher than any other team is best friend at work, which saves him from having to put them through team building exercises.

Thirty minutes pass.

"Oh my God," Stephanie screeches as she as stares incredulously at her screen. "Bruce, you need to fire this customer. Seriously. Pull this call. You won't believe what he just asked me. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Do you need me to take the call?"

"No, this guy is _only_ dealing with me. Transferring it to you would give him exactly what he wants and negate _everything_ women's rights and gender equality has worked for. Sexist asshole."

"You go, Steph!" Jason cheers her on.

It's not long after that before Dick, normally the most easy going and positive person on the small team, throws his hands up in disgust and stands up, pacing in his small cube as best he can with a headset cord tethering him to his desk. "Ken, it sounds like you're on the right screen. Do you see the reddish box that tells you the error code? It's just below..." Dick eyes widen. "Yes, that's the box, you just read it out loud... _Fuchsia?_ "

He sounds so flabbergasted that it gets everyone's attention. The call ends quickly after that and Dick tosses his headset at the screen. It happens a lot. "My God! I know I've got odd tastes when it comes to colors, but has _ANYONE_ ever called the error box online _fuchsia_ before?"

"It's red," Tim says dryly. "Or a reddish pink if you're being technical."

"I just spent the last 40 minutes with this guy trying to get him to read me the error code on his screen so I could log it and send it to you, Tim but he said he couldn't find the red box. Then suddenly he starts reading the code and tells me the box isn't red. That it's _fuchsia_." He sounds so utterly disgusted that everyone laughs.

An hour before their shift ends, Jason joins a chat and shakes his head in utter disgust as his fingers fly over the keyboard. "I don't know which person is the bigger dumbass. Bruce, seriously, when I'm done here, you need to send a coaching to this moron's manager. He really fucked things up."

Tim gets up and walks around to look over Jason's shoulder. "Oh, wow. That's impressive."

"No shit. The stupid is strong with this one."

Bruce sighs and starts watching the chat on his side. At this time of night, he knows how Jason can get, though he does have a way with being passive/aggressive in the written channel that none of the others can even dream of. They've tried and failed spectacularly, leaving the messes for him to clean up.

5am can't arrive soon enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fuchsia story is real. Happened to the hubby. The sexist asshole happened to me. My female manager set his ass straight. :D


	2. Must. Not. Have. Superpowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've done more of this 'verse in Coffee House Rules, but here's a non-coffee related installment.

It's one of those nights where nothing is going right. Most of the platforms for the WE website went down early for some maintenance and Bruce's team were the last ones to be informed of it, even though they really should have been the first ones considering what they do. Even Dick and Stephanie, usually the ones Bruce could count on to keep calm and collected, were starting to snap under the repeat questions.   
  
"Did you check your email?" he hears Steph ask the frontline employee she's speaking with. "We sent out a notice about the outage three hours ago and posted it on the Tech Support intranet page."   
  
The rep must have said something to the contrary as her next reply has an edge to it.   
  
"As much as I wish I did, I don't have a magic wand to make this go faster. We're just as stuck as you are."  
  
She may not have a magic wand but she said the magic words as commentary from the rest of the team starts up.   
  
"I want a magic wand," Jason says. "I'd shove the pointy end up this loser's ass."  
  
"Language, Jay," Dick tries to diffuse the comment before it goes too far. "Besides, you know we'd be much better off if Tim's zot program would just work. How's that coming along anyways?"  
  
_Zot program?_ Bruce doesn't have long to wonder before Tim chimes in.   
  
"Not well." Tim sounds exhausted but that's nothing new. He came back from vacation needing another vacation (he did come back with a tan, which was nice to see). "All I've got so far is making their screen fritz out on them."  
  
"Kinda defeats the purpose." Bruce can just see Jason shaking his head. "One zot for each stupid question. Pavlovian training at its best."  
  
"I haven't given up," Tim replied fervently.   
  
Bruce wonders how much coffee he's had tonight.   
  
"Ugh!" Stephanie almost screams as the sound of a headset slamming against the desk reverberates through the quiet room. "Must. Not. Have. Superpowers."  
  
"Why?" Dick asks in a curious tone. "I'd want to fly!"  
  
"Go right ahead and fly out that window then, Dick," Steph snaps. "I'll even help you get started."  
  
"Whoa, calm down there, Blondie. What set your undies on fire?" Jason always has a way with words. Bruce often wonders why the young man doesn’t write for a living; his memos and write-ups for the company intranet site are practically works of art.  
  
"That _moron_ asked me if there was any way I could speed up the maintenance. Said it's very inconvenient to him and that he can't do his job properly."   
  
Bruce face palms at that and the rest of the team breaks out into raucous laughter.   
  
"Oh man, that's a good one," Jason wheezes as he tries to catch his breath. He's been trying to stop smoking recently.   
  
"No wonder you don't want superpowers," Dick laughs. It’s easy and carefree, just like he is.  
  
"If I had superpowers, I'd want to be the ghost in the machine," Tim comments dreamily. "All that code, access to all the information in the world...yeah."   
  
Definitely not enough sleep and not enough caffeine.   
  
"Nerd," Steph says fondly. As Bruce peeks around the corner of his high walled cube, he sees her ruffling Tim's hair, messing up his ponytail in the process.   
  
"I'd want the ability to heal from anything, like Wolverine in the X-men," Jason says with the sharp grin of his. "No more casts for me."   
  
He's referring to the cast he wore for awhile last year when he broke his leg in that car accident. There were other injuries too, including several broken ribs, as well as a nasty cut to his head that's resulted in the white streak of hair on his forehead.   
  
"Right now, I'd just settle for the ability to reach out and smack anyone upside the head, whether I'm in the same room as them or not," the young woman growls.   
  
"That would come in handy when I'm driving," Bruce decides to chime in as he stands up and joins in the conversation. Sometimes it's not worth the effort of trying to defuse the situation. This one will burn itself out soon enough. "Like the ones who weave in and out of traffic going 90 when the speed limit is 55."  
  
"Oh man, that would be awesome!" Jason crows. "Except I'm usually one of those guys when I'm on my motorcycle."  
  
"Says the guy who was in the accident last year. You sure you didn't cause that one, Jay?" Steph teases, rolling her chair back and forth.   
  
"Not according to the cops," he grins unrepentantly. "That fucker came outta nowhere."  
  
Bruce privately agrees. He'd driven past that accident on the way to work, not knowing until much later it was Jason's bike he'd seen strewn across the intersection.   
  
"So what superpower would you want, Bruce?" Tim asks, turning around from his monitor where he's been typing furiously at something the entire time. It's better not to ask what he's working on.   
  
"I've never really thought about it before," he hedges as he thinks furiously. Having eyes in the back of his head to constantly keep an eye on his 12-year-old son would be wonderful. Damian gets into _everything_ and causes all kinds of trouble, especially when he's with his best friend Jon. Thank God the Kent’s live in Metropolis.   
  
"Come on, Bruce. There has to be something," Dick tries prodding.  
  
"Well, I'm not sure if it's a superpower really, but..." he hesitates, uncertain if he wants to share this with his team and open himself up to the ridicule.   
  
"Come on, Bruce," Stephanie coaxes. "In all honesty, I'd love the ability to teleport. To be able to anywhere I want, whenever I want, and not have to deal with the travel time in between."  
  
"Oh, good one!" Dick reaches across the aisle to give her a high five.   
  
Four expectant pairs of blue eyes meet Bruce's. Funny how they all share the same eye color.   
  
"I'd love to be the greatest detective in the world. Like Sherlock Holmes," Bruce finally says. He waits for it.   
  
"Wow, that's cool!" Tim is the first to reply, his eyes wide behind his chunky glasses. "Is that why you're always reading mysteries?"  
  
"Yes," he replies, a bit surprised that Tim of all people noticed his choice of reading material when he's on break.   
  
Dick grins brightly. "You'd be good at it. You're always catching us when we think we're being sneaky."  
  
They're not as sneaky as they like to think they are.   
  
"I guess this means I gotta up my game then." Jason gives him a cheeky grin.   
  
"If by game, you mean your candy stash, I already know where that is." Bruce gazes levelly at the younger man. "As well as where you hide your cigarettes, and where you like to hide Tim's coffee mugs."  
  
Tim suddenly lunges over the low cubicle wall between his and Jason's desks, nearly knocking over one of the monitors. He moves quickly, which is highly unusual for the normally half-awake programmer. " _Where are they?!_ " he screams.   
  
He's wide awake now.   
  
Deciding discretion is the better part of valor, Bruce retreats back into his cube as the shouts ring out between the two men and Dick and Steph try to play peacemakers.   
  
If he doesn't see it, it didn't happen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The must not have superpowers is based on an ongoing joke between my husband and I and why we must never be allowed to have superpowers, even if it's just the ability to flick someone's ear from long distance when they're doing something stupid. This keeps us amused, especially when we're driving.


End file.
